


A Slow and Quiet Thing

by scatter



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Spoilers, Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-28
Updated: 2011-04-28
Packaged: 2017-10-18 18:19:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatter/pseuds/scatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the bad ending, Souji leaves Inaba and takes one of the few good things it gave him with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Slow and Quiet Thing

It's so easy to agree with Yosuke.

Yes, Namatame has to die. Yes, we have to push him through the TV. He has to pay for Saki and Mayumi and Nanako, and Souji can't believe Nanako's gone. He'll never hear her call him big bro again or show her another magic trick. He can't stand feeling this bad. Someone has to feel worse, someone has to pay, and Yosuke's saying everything he's thinking, all the things he won't let himself voice.

It's so easy to agree, to drown out everyone else's protests, because in the past few months only Jiraiya has turned to Susano-o, and Souji's always listened to Yosuke more than he should.

It turns out that pushing him in doesn't do much of anything, not even make him feel better. There's one brief, vicious moment of hate but there's no victory because Namatame's so pathetic and frail he can't fight back. It's almost like throwing a child in and Souji's sick with himself even before he disappears from view. Behind him, one of the girls is crying. Next to him, Yosuke is panting loudly from the effort and neither of them can look at each other.

There's one good thing: no one else gets kidnapped. There's nothing else, though. The fog doesn't lift. Nanako doesn't come back. Her room stays empty, and the team has to put another lie together, to say the Namatame escaped through the window and they couldn’t do anything to stop him. There are a lot of little lies tying them together, the ones they give their families about their new injuries, the ones they use to explain where they've been all afternoon. One more won't hurt.

Souji ends up talking less. He can't see the point in it. The group doesn't get together much anymore and when they do it's uncomfortable, the weight of what they can't say pressing down until no one wants to say anything at all. At home, he has no one to speak with, not with Dojima still in the hospital, and he's never been one to talk to himself. He doesn't like hearing his voice go unanswered where before he knew there was someone else to respond.

He stays in more. He doesn't want to but the other option is to go outside and walk around in the fog and he doesn't want to do that. It isn't like the fog in the TV world, not exactly. No one changes into a Shadow or gets eaten or goes crazy in any spectacular way, though he hears there's an increase in anxiety and depression. It just…stays there, thinner some days, thicker others, slowing the town down to a crawl. People lose their energy. They walk slower, and pause in mid-sentence, unsure of what they were talking about, and whole conversations fall apart, ones that no one can summon the interest to reconstruct.

His team fares better than everyone else but it's getting to them as well, and seeing their slumped shoulders and hearing their silence makes him acutely aware of his failure.

"Come to the city with me," he tells Yosuke one day. He can see his breath in front of his face, rising up thin and white. It's cold now, always, some days more, some days less, but always more than it should be. When he's at home, he wraps himself in covers or sits at the kotatsu Nanako will never use. He'd bought it just for her, the best one he could find, but he wonders if something isn't wrong with it. It doesn't warm him up enough. He'll have to check the wiring.

Yosuke rubs his nose. "Can't." Only that one word, short and clipped like he has to push the word out. He's still wearing his headphones but Souji doesn't remember the last time he saw him listening to his music. Before Namatame. What an odd way to think of time: before Namatame and after.

They never should have killed him. Yosuke was the one to suggest it, but Souji knows it's his fault that things went wrong. He should have calmed down, talked Yosuke down, listened to the others and spent more time with them. He should have done a lot of things. Thinking about them all makes him tired.

"Why not?" he asks. He's not sure how much time has passed since Yosuke gave his answer and looking at his watch doesn't help. He isn't sure of what time it was when he invited Yosuke to meet him here.

"Parents. The others." Yosuke's facing the river, eyes on the rocks where Souji used to fish. He doesn't do that anymore. Last time he dropped the rod and when it washed away he thought about walking in after it and not coming back out. The thought scared him. He doesn't want to die; he just doesn't want to be here. "School too, there's still that, and my job. I like it here."

 _I don't_. Souji adjusts his coat, leans against Yosuke. He's warm, the fur of his jacket and his skin, and he lets him stay there, even leans back. _You don't either_. He's sure of that. Yosuke liked the old Inaba, not what it's become. Not one can like this.

"Come…" He takes a deep breath, stops, closes his eyes. The water sounds nice again, as nice as last time he was here, and he'd always meant to take Nanako fishing, teach her how to tell one fish from the other by the way they tugged on the line. If it's frequent and fast, it's a little fish, and if it's slow and deep, it's a big one, the ugly ones he chased her with once.

When he opens his eyes again, it's dark. The fog has gotten thicker, and only his glasses let him see his surroundings. Tomorrow, there'll be an advisory on health, on travel, telling everyone to _stay inside unless you absolutely have to go out_ , but the fog gets inside houses and buildings and people, and the town will slow even more. One day it's going to wind down and it won't start up again.

Inaba won't be eaten by Shadows or torn apart by murders. It'll simply stop, overcome by the same cool stillness he sometimes feels in his dreams.

"Come to the city with me," he repeats, and finds Yosuke's hand. Yosuke's fingers curl around his. "You'll stay with me, and listen to your music again."

Very quietly, Yosuke says, "That sounds nice."

"Yes."

"You have to do something about the others. We can't…"

"I'll try."

He does, he really does, but that day with Yosuke is one of the last he can remember with any clarity. He knows the weather, when it rains and when it's as sunny as it gets now, but he's not sure… Did he talk to Kanji today? He must have. He remembers him saying something about his mother, how he can't leave because then she'll be alone. He thinks he says something to Chie, on the roof, maybe, or in front of the shop where she likes to eat. Yukiko's leaving so you should too, he says, but all that does is make her mad.

"She's leaving? When?" Her eyes go wide and wet. "Why? She never told me…"

That's not the point, he tries to say, but she isn't listening to him anymore. That's only fair; he didn't listen to her back then either. It's frustrating, though, because he's close with her and close to making the same kind of connection he has with Yosuke except time keeps getting away from him, blending day after day together, and he can't make any more progress. If only everything would slow down then maybe… He doesn't know how things can go so fast and so slow at the same time.

He sees Dojima in the hospital sometimes. He sees Nanako in his dreams more often. He sees things in the TV that aren't there because the Midnight Channel doesn’t come on anymore but he still rolls over in the middle of the night and watches Nanako appear, or Yosuke or Teddie or any of his friends. He thinks about going in there and saving them, and can't understand why no one calls him to tell him they see the same thing until he goes to school and realizes everyone is still there. He puts a sheet over it one day and moves it out of his room the next.

He remembers doing that, but doesn't remember when.

His mind seems unusually clear the day he's supposed to leave. He doesn't quite remember waking up and getting his things together, but he's able to hold a conversation with Dojima without trouble (when did he get out of the hospital?) and though he can't recall the drive to the station once he gets there things clear up again. Dojima leaves, going back to the house where he'll alone. Souji wonders how long he'll be able to stand it.

Yosuke's waiting for him with a bag in hand and mumbles something about having talked to his parents. Souji honestly doesn't care how he got permission, too relieved by the fact that he's actually coming.

"Yosuke-senpai too?" Rise asks softly. Souji vaguely recalls trying to convince her to leave but she'd been confused about Risette and they talked in circles until her grandmother called her back into the shop.

"Yeah," Yosuke says. He stands close to Souji so there's a little separation between the rest of them, he and Souji on one side, and everyone else on the other.

"You guys will come back to visit, won't you?" Chie asks. She's holding Yukiko's hand hard, and Yukiko's mouth is set in a tight line. She won't look at him or Chie or anyone.

Souji nods. Yosuke doesn't say anything. It's easier to lie if you don't say anything, but Souji's not lying. Not really. He just…has to go away for a while.

He wishes Naoto wouldn't look at him like that, and that Kanji was comfortable enough in his skin to look at anyone at all.

It's so quiet that their voices sound odd. He can almost believe there isn't anyone else on the train. No one got off of it, at least, and he and Yosuke are the only ones about to board.

There's not much else to say. He and Yosuke get on. The door closes in front of them and the train starts to pull away, and they stay there looking through the glass until everyone is out of sight. When they take their seats, Yosuke sits next to him and stares out the window, at the fog getting thinner the farther they go. When the sun breaks through, clear and bright, it hurts Souji's eyes.

"I liked Inaba," Yosuke says, and finds his hand.

"Yes," Souji responds, because it was good once and could have been still, "so did I."


End file.
